This blog post was written by NCTE member Katie Papesh as part of a blog series celebrating the National Day on Writing®. To draw attention to the remarkable variety of writing we engage in and to help make all writers aware of their craft, the National Council of Teachers of English has established October 20 as the National Day on Writing®. Resources, strategies, and inclusion in a blog post does not imply endorsement or promotion by NCTE.
It is the first full week of fourth grade, and our writing workshop has just begun. We have just read Zuni and the Memory Jar by Aisha Saeed, and the room is buzzing with students sharing stories. The conversation starts to settle, and I gently slide my voice in: “Maybe today as a writer you want to stay in our community area and continue sharing stories together. Maybe you want to write down a story you just shared, or a memory that came to you while listening. Or maybe you have a different idea that you want to create. Once you have an idea, go ahead and get started.”
Now, my favorite part: observing and conferring. I grab my journal and find a place to sit, watch, and listen, grabbing a pen to begin my note taking. I notice the writer creating a graphic novel, adding sound waves from the earthquake to bring motion to their picture. I make a note in my journal to grab Sidekicks so I can show Brendan how Dan Santat shows motion and movement in his pictures.
I notice the group of four girls who are sitting and drawing little characters in their journals, learning from a book called Art for Kids Hub: Cute and Funny Foods. I make a note to grab them the Pizza and Taco series, connecting them to Stephen Shaskan as a possible mentor.
Next, I notice Kassie who is hiding under the table, trying not to be seen as she feverishly reads another picture book from the stack next to her. I quietly squat down and whisper to her: “I notice that today as a writer you are reading for some inspiration. That is certainly something that writers do. Enjoy your book, Kassie.” I want her to know that I see her as a writer, even if she doesn’t (yet). I write down why is she reluctant to write?
I walk to the other side of the room and sit by Calvin, who is screenshotting memes from Google and adding them to a slideshow. My initial instinct is to redirect him to something I deem as more important. More “academic.”
Instead, I ask him to tell me what he is creating. We sit and laugh together as he reads through his collection of memes. When he finishes, I tell him I would like to reread the memes through the lens of a writer, a move I learned from Stella Villalba. We reread the memes, wondering why the author chose that picture, why those words? We notice how the words and pictures work together to make the meme funny and think about how we could try that out in our own writing.
I smile as I write this and remember this day because our writing workshop has become the heart of our community within these short six weeks. Trey, who refused to enter the room on day one, eventually joined us in time to sit in a quiet corner with a friend and share photos from an album he brought from home, usually of his dog, Tiko. A few days later he started sketching photos of Tiko. A few more and we worked to write a sentence on each sketch explaining what Tiko likes to do. He now proudly has it hanging in the hall with a note inviting readers to take it down to read. He needed time and trust from me that he would get there in his own way and in his own time.
I think about Trey and his entry point into storytelling versus Kassie, who I learned in time had brilliant ideas and story sequence, and her perfectionism was blocking her from putting her thoughts on paper. She was fearful that others wouldn’t be able to read her story, embarrassed that others couldn’t read her spelling. Introducing a “try it” spelling page and a consistent time to confer and coach her through her words allowed her to write without fear and get her brilliant stories on paper for others to read. Kassie didn’t need me to force her into it, damaging her relationship with and joy for writing. She, like so many of us, needed to see herself as a writer and understand the tools she needed to help her share her stories through writing. Reading was her entry point.
Slowing down, observing, and offering numerous, joyful entry points to our students is essential. They deserve time to play with writing and explore authors whose writing they want to emulate. They need to watch the YouTube video and laugh together before they can create their own. Imagine the joyful writing that would occur if we observed their joy more closely and curated (their) curriculum centering (their) joy.
Katie Papesh is a fourth-grade educator in Central Ohio, returning to the district in which she experienced her own K–12 schooling. Katie uses her deep understanding of the community she works in to think critically about educational spaces that are liberating and healing for our students. As an out educator, Katie has eight years of experience curating a classroom rooted in love and humanity.
It is the policy of NCTE in all publications, including the Literacy & NCTE blog, to provide a forum for the open discussion of ideas concerning the content and the teaching of English and the language arts. Publicity accorded to any particular point of view does not imply endorsement by the Executive Committee, the Board of Directors, the staff, or the membership at large, except in announcements of policy, where such endorsement is clearly specified.